"Oh. I see. Well, I wish you a pleasant evening, Mr Kydd."
"Thank you, sir," Kydd mumbled, remembering to back away. He had survived, and he turned to grin at Therese.
A fanfare of trumpets sounded from the other room, announcing the banquet. An immediate move was made towards the connecting door, but Kydd remembered to keep clear: as a junior officer he would certainly be bringing up the rear. He stayed to one side, nodding pleasantly to those whose eyes strayed towards him and Therese until eventually he judged it time to enter.
The room was huge. In the distance a long table was raised on a dais, the centre occupied by the Prince and honoured guests. Behind them two servants gently fanned the principal guests with enormous ostrich feathers, tastefully coloured in red, white and blue.
Lesser mortals occupied the long tables in rows from the front and, as he had suspected, he was shown to one near the rear. To his delight he saw Renzi seated there. Next to him was a voluble woman with pasty skin and a profusion of cheap jewellery who tugged incessantly at his sleeve. Renzi looked up at Kydd, and stared, stricken, at him as if the world had been turned upside-down.
Gleefully Kydd made his introduction, indicating to Therese that this was his particular friend, but when he made to seat his lady, he was interrupted by a courtier. "Sir, His Royal Highness commands you and Madame to join him," he murmured, discreetly indicating the Prince, who was beckoning.
Heart thudding, Kydd turned to Renzi and muttered his excuses. He wended his way with Therese through the tightly packed tables, feeling all eyes upon him, hearing animated murmuring following in their wake.
They mounted the dais and approached Prince Edward, who leaned back to speak. "Ah, so kind of you to join us." His eyes did not move from Therese as he continued, "I don't think you've met Hoheit Herzog Schweigerei, his wife the Herzogin Adelheid. Sir, Lieutenant Kydd and Madame Therese Bernardine-Mongenet."
The evening proceeded. Over the wild duck Kydd found himself explaining sea service to the Prince; the saddle of mutton saw him recounting his American sojourn to the sharp-featured Duke. While he was helping Therese to another pompadour cream he looked out over the massed tables below them. Somewhere in the hazy distance Renzi, Captain Houghton and the rest were looking enviously to the dais at Prince Edward, Therese Bernardine-Mongenet—and Thomas Kydd.
At last the banquet drew to a close. The Prince rose, conversation stilled, and there was a sudden scraping of chairs as everyone stood up. One by one the members of the high table descended, following the Prince as he processed out affably, nodding to the bobs and curtsies as he passed. Looks of admiration and envy shot at Kydd, who smiled back lazily.
In the foyer the Prince turned to Kydd. "Lieutenant, you will no doubt be returning to your ship. Pray do not stand on ceremony for Madame—I will personally see she returns home safely." With a wry smile, Kydd bowed. "And, Lieutenant, I will not forget your service to me this night!"
Therese looked at Kydd. She crossed to him and kissed him firmly on both cheeks. "I will not forget this evening. Bonne chance, mon ami."
They left. Kydd watched the Prince's carriage depart, Therese's last glance back and fond wave. The rest of the guests issued out noisily, and it seemed the whole of Halifax wanted to meet him, make his acquaintance, be seen with him. Captain Houghton appeared, staring wordlessly at Kydd and shaking his head slowly before he moved on; Adams came up and insisted on taking his hand. "Damme if that wasn't the finest stroke of the age!" he said sincerely.
Finally Renzi emerged. Full of the deepest delight Kydd said casually, "Then was she not a suitable lady?"
"Brother, we must walk for a spell." Renzi did not bother to introduce the lady with him, who pouted at the slight. "Into your coach, m'dear," he said firmly. "I shall follow." When they were alone on the street Renzi turned to him. "My dear fellow," he began, then stopped. "My dear chap. Where can I begin? " He paced about in frustration, ignoring the admiring glances passers-by were throwing at Kydd. "In polite society—in the highest society—damn it all, what you did was either inspired deviltry or the purest ignorance! And all Halifax believes it the first."
"Nicholas, you talk in riddles. If you're just envious — "
"Tom—if you must know, this is what you did. You invited the Prince's mistress to a banquet hosted by the Prince himself."
"Therese—Julie?" Kydd fell back in dismay. The flush drained from his face. At the very least it was the ruin of his career, a spectacular end to his promising beginnings. After the exaltation of earlier it was agonising.
"Not at all." Renzi struggled for the words. "The world believes you knew that Julie appears at lesser occasions, the Prince having a particular taking for her, but at affairs of state—foreign potentates—she must not be seen. To the Prince's great pleasure you produced her for him at this occasion under the unimpeachable courtly pretence of not knowing her situation."
He gave a low laugh. "There must be many haughty matrons of Halifax who have been put sadly out of countenance tonight—but many more gentlemen whose admiration for you is unbounded. Just consider—you now have the ear and attention of a prince of the Blood Royal. You are made in society, you— you have but to claim the fruits of your cunning."
"Where's Renzi?" It was late morning in the wardroom and he had still not appeared. Kydd had put it down to over-indulgence, but his friend's cabin was empty.
"Renzi? I do believe he must still be at Manning's tavern—he was well away when I saw him," Pringle drawled.
A tavern? Kydd threw on his coat and clapped on his hat. In all the time he had known Renzi he had never once seen him in liquor. Surely he was not a spurned lover. The woman whom he had seen at the banquet? Impossible!
Manning's was often frequented by officers but Kydd could not find Renzi in the high-backed chairs of the taphouse or in any of the more secluded public rooms. Discreet enquiry yielded that he was still in his room and furthermore had sent for two bottles since midnight, and was unaccountably alone.
Disturbed, Kydd went up the stairs. Knocking at the door several times did not produce a result. "Nicholas!" he called softly. "I know you're there. Let me in, brother."
About to knock again he heard Renzi's muffled voice, "Thank you for your visit, but I'm indisposed. I shall return aboard— later."
"If bein' tosticated is what ails ye, then it's a poor shab as won't see his friend."
There was a silence, then a rattling, and the door opened. Kydd nearly laughed at the frowsy bleariness of his friend but kept a grave expression and entered. He sat in a chair next to the bed. "Can I be of service to ye?" he asked neutrally.
Renzi glared balefully at him. Then he groaned and lolled back in the other chair. "I'm all undone, I see. You shall have the truth of it—but first a drink."
Kydd sat up, alarmed, but Renzi reached for the water pitcher on the dresser and up-ended it, gulping the water noisily. He wiped his mouth and tried to grin. "Ah, let us say I have been the unwitting sport of Venus, the plaything of Cupid. In fine, I have to admit to being gulled in full measure."
"Aye?" said Kydd, trying not to show his considerable interest.
"A charming nymph, a young sprig of society, whose name will be known in the highest reaches of Haligonian gentility, she it was who—who has refused me."
"That—that woman at the banquet?" Kydd said, appalled.
"Not her," said Renzi testily. "A mere quicumque vult, a Cyprian taken up for the occasion. No—I speak of a young woman of grace and talents, a perfect specimen of spirited maidenhood. I met her at the admiral's rout and since then have been seen in her company at many a polite occasion, a sparkling companion. Then, the sap unwonted rising high, I pressed my attentions on her, would not be denied . . ." He trailed off, staring disconsolately at the wall.